Did you know?

The Language of the Flowers was a popular method to express feelings where words might be improper, but did you know other means of doing so? Some ladies used their parasols, as well as their fans, gloves, and hankies to flirt with a gentleman (or alternatively, tell them to shove it!). — Bree

— Submit your own —

Iola Hitchens for Elladora Black. The Blacks' black sheep.
This boy, then. He wasn't new. Wasn't one of the worst people in the common room, those rotten rich boys - like Mr. Jailkeeper - who could not fathom a world beyond their own farts. Was a good working class lad, so he'd heard. Had a bit of a weird looking face, and a bit of a weird thing for preaching. Still.

Aubrey Davis in The Under-Sofa

— Nominate a quote —

Post at least once with the same character every day for a month.


We'll See About That
June 13th, 1888 — Hogsmeade Hospital
Immediately following this thread
The moment it had taken for Edric and Miss Lynch to appear in the middle of Hogsmeade Hospital went by quick enough that Edric, worse for wear and practically holding the hand of a nightgown-clad Miss Lynch, didn't even realize where they were until he was able to look around. His drew in a quick, sharp breath at the realization that they at the hospital—the very place he insisted he not go.

He cast an accusatory glance at Miss Lynch, who he assumed had not thought any of this out before bringing them here. "Merlin's beard, Miss Lynch," he swore in a hiss, his jaw tight and his knees wobbling as he tried to pull himself up from his kneeling position. This was definitely not what he needed today.

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Febby was astonishingly good at apparating, no nausea, not even a little sway as they landed smack dab in the middle of the very empty foyer of the hospital. She only kept her grip on his arm to keep him from falling over. Febs had to remind herself what time of night it was as she looked around for a hospital employee to accost.

A moment later, with February purposefully ignoring Mr. Umbridge's protests, she flagged down a passing employee and said that Mr. Umbridge had been hit with an unknown spell on an assignment as an auror and would need to be taken to the Spell Damage ward. They disappeared, though gave her a once-over and a look, which she also promptly ignored. "Whine all you want, unless you can apparate yourself out now, you're stuck here." She turned on him again with a fire in her eyes that said she would not be messed with as she plopped herself on the floor next to him until somebody came to retrieve him.

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Utterly flabbergasted, Edric watched her with wide eyes as she plopped down next to him, seemingly without a care in the world. Did she realize what she was wearing? Did she care? There were many other thoughts and questions running through his head, but all he could focus on was the lights and the dizziness that he assumed came from the sudden—and not to mention unlawful—apparition he'd just suffered.

"You frighten me, Miss Lynch," he breathed, bringing a hand to shade his eyes from the hospital lights. "Are you aware that you just- just kidnapped me?" Merlin, he didn't feel so well.

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"Good." She passed him a cheeky grin, pretty pleased with herself, despite the circumstances. Febby was not overly concerned about her state of dress, or her hair for that matter as she watched him carefully. The last thing she needed now was for him to pass out, though at least they were already on the floor.

"You wouldn't have come otherwise." Febby shrugged as she pulled her  knees up to her chest, careful to arrange her housecoat as modestly as she could. Letting out a long, slow yawn into her skirts, she followed it up with, "You're a stubborn mule when you want to be, but you needed to come." She may not have been right about some things in the past, but this time she was right to bring him in, even if it was nothing.

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His eyes were beginning to flutter, but he was quick to convince himself that the cause was nothing other than sheer exhaustion. The entire day, the unexpected arrests, his impromptu coffee date with Miss Lynch on her front doorsteps, and now a hospital visit he hadn't consented to—it was all too much, really.

"Fine, I'm as stubborn as a mule and you're as mad as a March hare," he grumbled. He attempted to shift into a position that was less stressful than his back, unknowingly pressing his side against hers in the process. "I'm not happy about this at all," he continued to grouch, though spoke less to her and more to the air around him.

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"Agreed." Febby had never claimed to be otherwise. Though she wouldn't exactly call herself crazy per ce, she just wasn't one to sit around and wait for somebody to to handle a situation when she could. Or like in this case, wouldn't handle it themselves. Straightforward was the term she remembered being called not too long ago.

What was taking the hospital staff so long? At this rate she could have levitated him to a room herself and not bothered to wait for somebody to get a gurney.

"Yes well, I suspect you'll get over it eventually. Or are you really that stubborn?" He'd bumped into her again, though she couldn't tell for what reason, so she decided not to put too much thought into it. She was genuinely concerned, however that whatever he'd been hit with was throwing him so off balance.

"You know I'm going to be housebound until I'm thirty for doing this right? I didn't just do it to piss you off, I did it because you wouldn't." Febby didn't know why she was trying to justify this to him anymore, but it wasn't like she'd actually kidnapped him.

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If she'd been trying to prove a point, she'd definitely done it. She had nerve, which was something he'd acknowledged from day one; he was beginning to think, however, that her nerve went just a little too far.

"Housebound until thirty? Just to get me to the hospital?" he asked dryly and full of doubt. He really doubted she cared that much; either she'd acted on impulse or she'd done this simply to spite him. Though despite her recklessness and stupid, there was a part of him—a part so small, but recognizable nonetheless—that thought all of this was endearing. She wasn't doting in the traditional sense, but thinking back to how she'd gotten him coffee and been right at his side when he'd collapsed, he couldn't say that she was devoid of all tenderness.

"... Well, in that case, I won't press charges," he grumbled in response, though he didn't plan to press charges anyways. He was an auror and she was a girl—and not to mention she was a girl he liked...ish.

[-] The following 1 user Likes Edric Umbridge's post:
   February Umbridge

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They really couldn't have a conversation without bickering could they? Febs was chalking this one up to the fact that he probably was underestimating just how badly he was hit, but his grump was surreal sometimes. "Mhm, you're welcome." She leaned toward him ever so gently and nudged him with her shoulder; she didn't want him to go falling over the other direction.

"Oh how sweet of you." She chuckled quietly, amused despite their current situation. She really was going to be grounded forever after this, but hopefully Mrs. Harding would somehow back her up? Even her stern housekeeper was not always a match for her mother.

[-] The following 1 user Likes February Umbridge's post:
   Edric Umbridge

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He wasn't sure if she was annoyed, proud of herself, or what, because ever so often, in the middle of their bickering, she was prone to saying things that made him think she was less peeved than she was trying to come off as. Nudging was a very intimate gesture to most people, but was it to her? Or did she go around poking and nudging every gentleman she met? (And why in Merlin's name why was that thought angering to him?)

"What's your game plan? Have an explanation ready for your mother?" he asked, all the while trying to examine his palms—which, unfortunately for him, were still scraped up and coated in dried blood. Even more alarming was that the memories of actually falling were beginning to fade from his mind. What had hit him?

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Humming out a little note of thought, Febby shrugged nonchalantly. This was, unfortunately for her mother, not the first time she'd up and disappeared on a whim. Though never with an auror it tow. "I mean Mrs. Harding was right there, she watched us go," And had been creeping from the window before that, the old bat. "But I'm not sure, "I had to take the dashing auror who keeps our streets safe to the hospital" is really going to fly." Febby waved hand dismissively, without realizing how she'd just described him. Her mother would likely give her the rant on how somebody else could have done it, you're a young girl who shouldn't be out in the middle of the night, in your nightclothes, et cetera, et cetera.

"Who knows, maybe it'll only be until I'm twenty-eight. Might even get me out of having to participate in the season this summer." Oh, wouldn't that be the best possible outcome!? "Or she could make me go just to spite me, because she knows how much I enjoy it." She added sarcastically, features twisting into a wry smile.

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Half of his attention was on her while half of it was being spent on searching for his wand to clear the blood—until he processed what she'd said, and how she'd described him. "The dashing auror, huh?" he teased, cracking a smile as his gaze went to meet hers. "I never knew you thought of me as such." He'd long known he was handsome, but hearing it out of her mouth definitely confirmed what he believed to be true. This was the woman who had called him insufferable, irritating, annoying—but apparently he was also dashing. He smiled smugly.

Her explanation of her punishment—being home, missing the season, etc.—was similarly as surprising, as he'd never met a young, unmarried woman who would smile at such a notion. "Not a fan of the husband hunt?" he asked, clearly surprised. (Though he really shouldn't be, given that this was the woman who hadn't hesitated to punch him.) "I doubt she'll be able to keep you indoors, anyways; you've got a wild streak," he teased.

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Though she hadn't exactly meant to admit that she found him as such, February supposed he already knew anyway. "You can be rather charming when you want to be, what with your chivalrous ways and concern, as misplaced as I find it sometimes." Perhaps a little ego boost would take away some of his grumpiness. "You can also be incredibly surly, in addition to all of the other insults I've hurled your way across our acquaintance." That was too easy though. Febs kept tone was teasing, her smile soft so that he wasn't too affronted, however.

"Noticed that have you?" Febs knew she was easily considered wild compared to her peers, but honestly, she would't have it any other way. Life was boring without a little adventure. "And yes, it's dreadful, trying to simper through dancing and dinners. Things I am not cut out for." She stared at her slippers as she said it, a frown of annoyance tugging at the corner of her lips. "I mean I don't suppose I really mind the dancing part, but all of the gentlemen at these things are awfully boring and stuffy." With their boring jobs and their misogynistic views of women. None of her seasons had gone well due to some outside reasons as well, but they were hard to enjoy even when her brother wasn't missing or there was no imminent doom from a plague or fire.

Stretching out her arms, though they'd hardly been her a few minutes, Febby was growing uncomfortable here on the floor, and the excitement of the evening was passing into exhaustion. Honestly, somebody ought to have come back by now. "Maybe I should try to find someone again." She suggested as she began to stand up.

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   Edric Umbridge

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"Surly, insufferable, irritating, annoying, but also charming and chivalrous. I'll be sure to add those all to my résumé. Sounds like the ideal literary hero," he snickered. Everything she'd said could be interpreted as a compliment from Edric's perspective; he'd been called unfriendly and even and disconcerting in his youth, and he was later reprimanded in his early auror years for being uncooperative. He was used to insults, and had learned to take them with a grain of salt, especially since his self-esteem had grown with age.

Hearing of her preferences was something new, and it was definitely a conversation he'd never expected them to have—if ever—on the floor of the hospital waiting room. He unknowingly began to compare himself to her description of an "undesirable" gentleman, noting that he was by no means stuffy and boring.

And then, she dared try to get up while he was still completely unable to do so. In his trademark fashion, Edric caught hold of her wrist and tugged on it, signaling he had no desire for her to leave her spot.

"No, you're not leaving me here," he protested.

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Febby had not anticipated his protesting tug on her wrist. He caught her in an inconvenient portion of her upward motion and it upset her balance more than she was prepared for. In an attempt not to fall on him, Febs used her free hand to try an catch herself on his shoulder, but missed in the process.

It really wasn't graceful by any means as she went tumbling forward.

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His instinctual grab for her wrist proved not so convenient this time, as suddenly he found himself with a Miss Lynch sprawled against his lap, her face not but a few inches away from his. He stared at her with wide eyes and an agape mouth, unsure of whether to apologize or make some sort of witty joke to lighten the mood.

He didn't even dare look down the length of her dress, though based on where the fabric draped he was confident at least her ankles were showing. (He supposed this would have been more ideal in private; at least there he could tease her without the strangers around them assuming he was being creepy.)

Though still shocked and his voice a bit shaky, he was finally able to muster something. "I guess you could say you just fell for me," he mumbled, biting his lip in an attempt to prevent a smile.

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Of course the one place she didn't want to land was exactly where she fell. It was by no means graceful or gentle and Febby found herself face to face with the most infuriatingly insufferable baby she'd ever met! A full grown man, an auror no less, dragging her down because he couldn't be in the hospital!

Every snarky remark she had on the tip of her tongue died right there at his comment. Oh if ever! "As I tripped over your fragile ego! Honestly haven't you learned not to do that by now?!" Her words did not have quite as much bite as she wanted and the blush on hey cheeks was very evident, but seriously!

Realizing she'd sat there for far longer than was any kind of proper, and that her skirts we up around her knees, Febs managed to disentangle herself as gently and as quickly as she could to prevent making it any more awkward. This time are settled herself in front of him and out of arms reach. If nobody showed up in five minutes she was trying again.

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   Edric Umbridge

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